Better With Me
by paperdreams94
Summary: "You've known since you were seven and wanted to chase Brittany in the playground during Kiss Chase, not any of those stupid boys."
1. Chapter 1

Brittany's lying on your couch, flicking through the channels to find a cartoon that'll satisfy her post-homework brain ache. As usual, her feet are in your lap, and her golden hair is fanned over the arm of the chair. And as usual, her brow is furrowed as she tries to find something she wants to watch. Yet, something feels different today. Her body seems a little more tense, and, as she settles on Spongebob, she doesn't start giggling straight away as she normally would. In fact, as you flick a quick look in her direction, she looks a little down, and you know that something's not quite right.

"Britt?" you ask, a little worried. "Is something up?"

Brittany looks at you, and as blue eyes catch you own, your stomach jumps a little. It's a familiar feeling, as is the equally familiar confusion that comes with it.

"I can tell you anything, right, San?" she asks, almost a whisper.

"Of course," you reply, scared now.

Brittany swallows and shuffles out of your lap, so you're both sitting cross legged on the couch with your knees touching.

"It's just… well, you know last night? Mike Chang came over to practice for that dance competition we have coming up?"

You nod, and you already don't like where this is going.

"Well, when we'd finished, we were just sitting in my basement, watching TV. And then he sort of leaned over and kissed me. I was totally surprised, because I thought he liked Tina. But it was good and we carried on and then we did all the other stuff and then… I don't know how it happened, but I had sex with him, San. It wasn't that good but I knew it'd hurt because of what you told me about Puck and stuff, and…" Brittany trails off. She looks a little nervous, awaiting your reaction.

You feel sick. You don't know why. You've already lost your virginity, right? You lost it a year ago, when you were 15, and Puck tried to be gentle but he still seemed too rough. You've done it enough times since, as well, so why does Brittany's 'news' bother you so much? You can't pinpoint it, but you think it has something to do with the fact that you know Mike wouldn't have treated her properly. He wouldn't have been soft enough with her, wouldn't have held her and eased her through the pain. You imagine his rough hands on her and vomit threatens to rise in your throat.

"Is that okay, San? I mean, I know I said I'd tell you before I did it but I didn't plan it. It just happened. Are you mad?" Brittany looks upset. It probably has something to do with the hard look on your face as you process what she's told you.

Yet, you also wonder why she would ask if you're mad. Because really, why should you be annoyed at her? You gave your virginity away pretty easily.

"Yeah, I'm pretty mad," you answer, shocking yourself.

Brittany's face crumples. "Why?" she wants to know. "You had sex with Puck. I know you're still doing it, as well. How comes you're allowed?"

You know she's trying to sound tough, but really she just sounds weak. A little broken, even.

"Because," you stop. Because what? What reason do you have? "Because, ugh, Britt, you're better than that! You should have waited! That ass hat has no idea how to make you feel good!"

"How would you know?" Brittany counters.

You're shocked. She doesn't normally answer back.

"You weren't ready yet," you say, though really, you know it's not your place.

Brittany pouts. She's angry now. "It's not up to you to tell me when I can and can't have sex, Santana," she argues, and you're a little shocked. "Who do you think I should have lost it to, then?"

You gulp, because in amongst the hurt and the anger, you know. You know, and it's something that's plagued you ever since you were seven and wanted to chase Brittany in the playground during a game of Kiss Chase, not any of those stupid boys. It's something that's bothered you since your mom told you, at the age of ten, that you'd find 'the perfect prince' one day, and you wondered what it meant if you wanted the princess instead. It's something that's especially scared you since you've noticed that every time you have sex with Puck, you imagine what it'd be like to have a smaller, leaner, blonder body underneath you instead.

"Me," you whisper, so quietly you're not sure if Brittany even heard at all. The shock contorting her face says she did. "You can go now," you add, getting up from the couch. Brittany follows without a word. You show her to the door, and, as she leaves with a look of confusion, you almost say something else, provide her with an explanation. But you can't.

So as soon as the door is closed, you do the only thing you know how. You grab your phone, and find Puck, and in a second you've planned to go over to his. You're only 16. You shouldn't be using sex to help you when you're hurting. Sure, the other girls in your year are discovering putting their tongue inside someone else's mouth and grabbing at each other while making out and learning how sex feels for the first time. But they don't savour the numbness it brings.

Right now, you need to feel numb.


	2. Chapter 2

You and Brittany haven't spoken for four days. You thought she might call or text or _something_, wanting to know what you meant the other day.

Nothing.

You can only conclude that she's confused, or angry, or hurting, or a combination of all three, and you feel terrible because you know that you've caused it. Mainly, you're just confused yourself. Why did you have to blurt it out like that? She probably never wants to talk to you again because she's not gay and she doesn't want her best friend having a weird lesbian crush on her.

You punch the pillow on your bed. You're so _frustrated_. You've slept with Puck three times in the last four days, hoping that it'd make you forget your feelings for Brittany. Puck can't believe his luck, but every time you've been left feeling disgusting. You can't take it anymore. You need to talk to Brittany. You stab in her number and you're surprised when she answers on the second ring.

"Hello?" she sounds cautious.

"Britt, it's me," you say quietly. Stupid. Of course she knows it's you. "Can we talk?"

Silence for a few seconds. Then, "I'll be there in twenty."

She hangs up.

* * *

You race to your wardrobe and rifle through it. Do you put a dress on? Tiny vest that shows off your boobs? You eventually decide on denim shorts and a loose white tank top. You don't want to look like you've tried too hard. You chuck your hair into a ponytail and give your face a quick check. You look terrified.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you go downstairs. You settle on the couch and try to look casual, despite the fear plucking at your insides. Five minutes later and Brittany lets herself in.

She looks beautiful, as usual. This is just the first time that you've let yourself actually think it. Her blonde hair falls in waves around her face, and she wears a pair of leggings and a pink Hello Kitty top. It'd look lame on anyone else, but this is Brittany.

You give her a weak smile and you're relieved when she returns it.

"Britt," you breathe, turning to face her as she sits down on the couch. "I am so sorry. I can't stand this not talking to you and I'm sorry for what I said about Mike and I don't know what I was saying when I said you should have lost your virginity to me because…"

Brittany's face falls. Is she disappointed?

"Why did you say it then?" Brittany wants to know. There's curiosity on her face and also something that you can't quite place. Your stomach twists because you think… no. She can't want the same thing as you, can she?

You take a deep breath. "Okay, look. I have feelings for you. I can't help it. I don't know where they came from and I totally understand if you don't want to speak to me again because, yeah, it's a little weird to find out your best _girl _friend has a crush on you. But when you told me about you and Mike it hurt, because I was jealous. I hate the thought of anyone else having you because really, I want you for myself. And the thing is, Britt, er, I think I might…"

You pause. Are you in love with her? Can you even be in love at sixteen? This sure as hell feels like it, and you decide that you can.

"I think I might be in love with you. Okay?"

You finish talking. You've just let your guard down for the first time in years and you're petrified.

Brittany just stares at you. Her face isn't giving much away, but you're sure a smile is threatening to tug at the corners of her mouth.

"I like you too," she says simply. "Can I kiss you now, please?"

You stomach plummets. You don't know what to say. You love Brittany's bluntness, the way she refuses to judge anybody. She's the most open minded person you've ever met. Yet you're feeling a little dejected because you just told your best friend you're in love with her and she's responded by telling you that she simply 'likes' you, but she's also just asked to kiss you and how do you ignore that?

Your heart is beating so fast that you think it's going to pop out of your chest. You've never kissed a girl before. But Brittany is leaning in and in a second her lips will be on yours and you don't really have any time to think about it. So you close your eyes and tilt your head and suddenly you're kissing.

All you can think about is how _soft _Brittany's lips are. It's slow and careful at first, and you're both just figuring each other out. Then Brittany's hand comes up to the back of your head and she's applying a little more pressure to your lips and you can't help it, you poke your tongue out. She greedily accepts and you feel her tongue against yours and _wow_, you're a little dizzy already.

You pull back because you feel like you might pass out. She pouts a little, but follows it with a smile so you know she's not really annoyed.

"Britt," you say, and you feel a little awkward because, well, she just had her tongue in your mouth. "I really am sorry."

She just shakes her head, and presses her finger to your lips. "You don't have to say sorry," she whispers. "I like you, Santana. Why should either of us have to apologise for that?"

Your stomach flips right over and before you know it your lips are together again, and you can't imagine any feeling ever beating this.

It's a little rougher this time, and teeth and tongue feature more than your lips. Brittany runs her fingers up both sides of your ribcage and you shiver. You pull away again, hesitantly this time.

"Britt, I know we can't really be each other's firsts now," you all but stutter. "But can we just pretend, anyway?"

You feel like you're going to be sick because you've just asked your best friend if you can have sex with her.

Brittany just nods. "Take me upstairs, please."

She sounds like she's begging.

You exhale with relief, and place a peck on her nose, earning a tiny giggle. Then you're tugging at her hand and guiding her to the bedroom that's hosted so many innocent sleepovers before. The nervousness that hung in the air between you seems to disappear as you fall on your bed, and start kissing again.

This time, you're on top of Brittany, a knee either side of her thighs, and you're running your fingers through her hair.

This is really going to happen.

"I've… I've never done this with a girl before," you whisper against Brittany's lips.

"Me neither," she replies. "It'll be fine, though," she adds.

And you trust her. You really do. You might never have done this with a girl before but instinctively, you just know what to do.

So as you capture her lips again, you trail a hand up her side and then softly palm at Brittany's breast over her top. She lets out a tiny moan and you're sure it's the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. In that moment, you know you want to continue making Brittany produce those sounds for the rest of your life. You squeeze again, a little harder this time, and Brittany makes the same noise, before she starts trying to wriggle out of her Hello Kitty top. You help her and then your breath catches because the most amazing girl is lying beneath you in nothing but leggings and a deep purple bra, and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen.

You return your hands to her breasts and she whines again, and then her hands are tugging at the bottom of your tank top. Before you can register what's happened, it's been thrown across your room and you feel exposed and scared and full of want all at once.

"You're gorgeous," Brittany says, as her eyes rake over your black lace bra and flat stomach. You're suddenly not so scared anymore.

You're not sure how it happens, but pale hands are suddenly pulling your bra down enough to allow Brittany to sit up and capture a nipple in her mouth and, _God_, you've never felt anything so heavenly in all your life. She twirls her tongue around it and reaches up to take the other breast firmly in her hand, kneading at the flesh. You moan, loudly, thankful that no one else is home. After giving both breasts the same treatment, Brittany reaches behind you and fumbles slightly at the clasp of your bra. She uses her eyes to seek permission and you grant it, and your breasts fall free as she removes the black fabric. Both of you moan.

Pressing her back down on the bed, you resume kissing. You really can't imagine ever tiring of kissing such perfect lips. Brittany moans again and you realise that you've subconsciously started rocking your hips into her own, and she's lifting hers to meet you.

"Can I?" you ask against her lips, tucking your thumbs under the band of her leggings.

For the first time, you notice a hesitant look flick across Brittany's face, before she nods.

"You sure?" you need to make sure she's perfectly okay with this.

"Please," she replies, covering your hands with her own.

You breathe in and then push them down, discarding them at the end of the bed somewhere. Then you hook your thumbs under Brittany's purple panties, and as her eyes grant you permission, you peel them away too. Your breath gets lost somewhere in your throat.

Brittany reaches behind her own back and unclips her bra, tossing it to the side.

Your eyes rake over her now completely naked body. You can't believe you ever tried to pretend that this wasn't what you wanted.

You lean over her once more and give her a slow, soft kiss, before her fingers are fumbling at the button of your shorts. You shift to allow her more room, and as she gets the zipper down, you think your heart skips a few beats.

You and your best friend are about to have sex.

"This okay?" Brittany asks, as she strokes her fingers over the band of your thong.

"It's okay," you confirm, as she pushes it away.

You're now both naked and exposed and arousal is clouding your fear. You're glad.

"Lie back," you whisper, and this isn't about dominance or a battle to be on top. This is about making love to each other and saying what you still haven't found the words for.

Brittany complies and as you press your lips to her own again, you trail your hand over her body. Past a taut abdomen, toned thighs and then…

"Oh," Brittany gasps, as your fingers meet wet warmth.

You choke back a moan as you feel your way through.

Exploring, you find the little button you deduce to be her clit, and Brittany cries out.

"There, San," she says breathlessly.

You make tiny circles over it. You don't really know what you're doing, but you know this feels good when you do it to yourself. Judging by the noises Brittany's making, it feels good for her too.

"Santana, please," she whines, and you increase your speed a little, before running your finger up the length of her and collecting a little moisture. You then return to her clit, pressing a little harder and rubbing a little faster.

"This feel okay?" you ask, before pecking at her lips again.

"So good," she manages to stutter, before – "Santana, inside,"

You stop your movements, only briefly, before composing yourself. Again, you move your finger up the length before pressing the tip of your finger inside. When Brittany doesn't yelp in pain, you go further in, until you're up to the knuckle.

You almost can't breathe. She's tight and warm and oh so wet around your digit, and it feels absolutely incredible.

Pumping your finger a little faster, you get braver and ease a second in. Brittany's moan says that's the right thing to do.

You lean down to kiss her as you work your fingers deeper, and swallow the sounds coming from her mouth.

Pleasuring a girl like this isn't what you expected at all. It's better, and you're surprised to find your own arousal mounting just by touching Brittany. You want to do this forever.

You reach up with your thumb until it brushes against Brittany's clit.

This time, her moan is low, deep and long, and you feel the wetness between your legs increase tenfold.

Sensing that Brittany's close, you allow your tongue to probe at her lips, and she grants you access immediately. It's sloppy, and there's no precision, but it's still better than any of the other kisses you've shared with boys. So much better.

"Santana, I'm going to –" Brittany yelps, and you just increase the pace until your hand starts to hurt a little. You press against her clit and then her whole body is shuddering under you. The sounds coming from her mouth make you dizzy, and the tightening around your fingers produces a moan of your own. You carry on, slowing the movement of your fingers and kissing her softly, helping her to ride through her orgasm. You decide there and then that making a girl come is probably one of the most beautiful things you've ever experienced.

"That was –" Brittany starts, as her breathing starts to return to normal. You cut her off with a kiss.

The two of you kiss for a little while. It's deep, to make up for lost time. It's slow, because you know you've still got so much time left together.

A few minutes later, you roll off her, thinking that you might take a nap.

Brittany seems to have other ideas. As you lie on your back, she comes up over you, straddling you in the same way you just did her.

For what feels like the millionth time, you miss a breath.

"You're so sexy," she whispers against your lips.

Slowly reaching to knead at your breasts, Brittany places a kiss on the tip of your nose, then each cheek, then your forehead.

Your eyes flicker shut.

She ducks her head to kiss at your neck, biting down softly before licking her tongue over it. You feel like you're about to come already. She moves down to your collar bone, placing a kiss on either side, before swiftly sucking each nipple. You arch your back, needing _something_. She makes her way down your stomach, kissing as she goes, and you think you know what's coming now. As she reaches your inner thighs you fight the urge to clamp them shut.

Puck did this to you once and whilst you can't deny it felt good, it also made you feel too exposed and embarrassed, so you couldn't enjoy yourself properly.

Butterflies are threatening to burst out of your stomach, but you let her carry on.

You trust Brittany.

She places one last kiss on your thigh before she's right there, staring at the most intimate part of you.

You catch blue eyes, and you know this'll be okay.

"Is this all right?" she asks, as though she's reading your thoughts.

You nod in response, and then she leans in, licking a stripe up the length of you with her tongue.

You moan, embarrassingly loud. This is already better than when Puck did it.

She explores you with her tongue, flicking through your folds. She finds your clit, and her tongue pokes at it quickly, before she takes it between her lips and sucks softly. You think you might black out.

A few moments later she leaves your clit, and goes back down to your entrance, circling with her tongue.

"Britt, please," you whimper, pushing your hips towards her face.

She complies, and relief floods through you as the feeling of being filled by something so slick and strong washes over you.

"Oh," you whine, as her movements speed up.

Your hips rise to meet each thrust and you should be embarrassed, but the pleasure won't let you. This feels incredible. She carries on, getting faster but still being soft, caressing you with her tongue.

You feel it then, the pull in your stomach that tells you that you're about to break.

"Brittany, please, I'm going to –" you almost beg, and she withdraws her tongue, before wrapping her lips around your clit again.

Your hips pump faster, and you're so nearly there. She grabs at your hips, almost clawing them, telling you that she's enjoying this as much as you are.

That does it. You let go, and you feel a little more wetness between your legs. She continues slowly licking, helping you down, and when she looks up at you, there's slickness coating her chin. You thought that'd make you self-conscious, but you actually find it really hot. You moan again.

Smiling, she crawls back up your body and kisses you deeply. You taste yourself for the first time and you know that you want to taste _her_ too. One day.

She lies next to you, and reaches for your hand. You savour the feeling of your fingers locked together.

"San?" she asks, quietly.

You nod.

"Did you really mean it when you said you loved me?"

You don't even have to think about it.

"I did," you answer.

"Good," she whispers back. "Because I love you, too."

Your stomach flutters, and you take a lock of her hair between the fingers of your free hand. You haven't felt so content in years.

Yes, this is scary. You don't know where this is going to go. And you know that people aren't going to like it. But for now, you're happy to lie with Brittany, entwined together.

Right now, that's really all you need.

* * *

**I really enjoyed writing this. Depending on whether people would like to carry on reading, I could be tempted to carry on writing. ;) **


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I couldn't help carrying on - writing these two is addictive! I never intended for this fic to go the way it does in this chapter, and I'm not sure I like it. Angst makes me sad but sadly it happens, and I thought it was necessary. **

**Reviews make me smile. :)**

* * *

You find yourself in a state of panic the next morning. You've been panicking since Brittany left yours for motocross yesterday, actually.

You don't regret what you did. You're just scared of what it means now.

Leaving for school, you try and tell yourself that it will be okay and that Brittany will have forgotten that you said you were in love with her. Not because you didn't mean it. God, you meant it more than anything else you've ever said.

But you feel so vulnerable now. You've let yourself need someone.

As you walk, you notice you're following a couple. The nauseating kind that tuck their hands into each other's back pockets and gaze at each other as they walk. Usually, that makes you feel sick, but today it just makes you sad. No one bats an eyelid when it's a boy and a girl. You know if you were to do that with Brittany, it'd be a different story.

Your stomach starts to ache as you reach school. You can't believe how scared you are. A tall, slim blonde is waiting for you at your locker, and she looks gorgeous, yet you find yourself wishing she wasn't there.

"Hey, San," she says quietly, reaching out to touch your arm.

Her touch makes you shiver a little, and you shake her hand away. She looks confused.

"Is that not okay?" she asks.

"It's not that," you reply. "I'm just feeling sick today."

Lame excuse. But it's better than hurting her.

"Poor Santana," she replies, genuine care in her voice. "I can come to yours after school if you want? Chicken soup and a few cuddles will probably help!"

She looks at you expectantly. You can tell she's excited because in her mind, what happened yesterday means she's allowed to make those suggestions now. Like a couple. And that's understandable. How's she to know that it left you feeling petrified instead?

"Maybe," you say. "Look, Britt, I'm late for English class. I'll see you at lunch, okay?" You turn and leaving her standing there, her happiness hanging in the space you've just left. You hate that you can't feel the same way as her.

"But class doesn't start for another ten minutes!" she calls after you. It really hurts to ignore her.

* * *

"You're being really weird today."

Quinn reaches out and touches your arm. You notice that it doesn't make you uncomfortable like Brittany's touch did.

"Am I?" you ask, wishing you could climb into the pages of _The Catcher in the Rye _and be anywhere but here. "I'm just feeling a little sick."

Quinn arches an eyebrow. She doesn't believe you. When does she ever?

"I know when you're lying. You always seem to forget that," she replies, and it's true, it's hard to lie to Quinn. Yet you'll use every lie in the book if it means she doesn't find out what happened yesterday.

You think about it again. You had sex with your best friend. And it was incredible, and surreal, and more than you'd ever hoped for. At the time, it seemed perfect. Now, out of that haze, it's just confusing.

"You can tell me, you know," she persists. "Is it your mom again?"

"No," you answer quickly. "No, it's not that."

She believes you on that. "Well, you know you can tell me if you need to, Santana. You're not yourself today."

You smile to tell her you appreciate it and then turn back to your book, scribbling down a nondescript answer to the question in front of you without really thinking. English class suddenly becomes really interesting when it's better than your reality.

* * *

"San, can I ask you something?" Brittany asks as you return a few books to your locker at the end of the day. "Are you annoyed about yesterday?"

The question hurts.

"No, no of course not," you reply quickly. "It was perfect, Britt, you know that." You want to kiss her to reassure her, but there's a bunch of kids surrounding you and you know you don't have the courage.

"Then was it? You're being weird around me today," Brittany says. She looks sad.

"It's nothing, Britt. I just – I don't know, I'm just tired, I guess. I still feel a little sick, too. I think I'm going to head home." You snap your locker shut and make to leave, but Brittany grabs your wrist.

"Let me come with you." She sounds like she's pleading.

You want her to. You want to walk home hand in hand and snuggle on your couch, and kiss her on the top of her head and other places too. But that's how you get hurt.

"I'm busy," you reply.

"Doing what?" she counters.

You can't think of an answer.

"If you don't want me to come, just say," she says. "But I wish you'd tell me what I've done wrong."

You owe her that, at least.

"I promise it's not you, Britt. But, I don't know. We can't do this… it won't work. You know what the kids at school are like. They'll make coming here even more shit than it already is!"

"But we'll have each other, so it'll be okay," she answers.

You groan in frustration. You wish more than anything you could be like Brittany. You wish you could believe that the world isn't a bad place and that people aren't there to hurt you. You wish you had that courage.

"No, it won't Britt!" you say, louder than you expected. "It's not enough to just have each other. Gay kids don't get that luxury at this school."

"But I'm not gay," she replies simply, as though that solves everything.

You can feel yourself becoming more and more irritated.

"It doesn't matter. We'd still be together and people won't accept that. That's just how this world works, Brittany."

She pouts a little. "I won't let them say horrible things."

Her sentiment should be cute but it actually just makes you more annoyed.

"For God's sake, Britt, stop being so stupid!"

You clap your hand over your mouth before the last word's even out. No.

When Brittany came crying to you when she was six, after Tom Yale called her an idiot because she got her alphabet mixed up, you vowed never to let anyone make her feel like that again. It didn't work, of course. You couldn't be there to protect her from people's words all the time. But you made an inward promise that you'd never let yourself be the source of her pain.

You've just broken that promise.

The words are there, in the air by your lips, and you want to grab them back and bury them somewhere in your throat. You can't believe yourself.

Brittany's face crumples and she chokes on a sob.

"I thought you were the only person I could rely on to never call me that," she whispers. You go to tell her how sorry you are, but she's gone before you can find the right words.


End file.
